


An Acceptable Activity

by kikibug13



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Babysitting, Complicated - Freeform, Gen, History, Music, living history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 17:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikibug13/pseuds/kikibug13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kincaid leaves Ivy to Harry for a few days, but then Harry (naturally) has to leave, too. So it's up to Molly, and she calls for reinforcements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Acceptable Activity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Haywire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haywire/gifts).



> I hope you do enjoy this, dear recipient! :)

Of course, it was a mess that started in Chicago and gathered momentum up and moved to very different places. 

At first, Kincaid had left Ivy with Dresden to watch over. (The Archive was furious at the necessity to be _babysat_ , albeit for a few days, no less. The still-terrified little girl whose choppy hair was barely starting to grow back had fewer problems with that.) Dresden had been pretty busy, but present, and they had both benefited by the knowledge that the Archive _could_ share on the subject. More than a little, as it turned out, for once. 

Then the wizard had gotten busier, the way that Dresden usually did, and, maybe out of some misconceived sense of obligation or because he couldn't think of any other options, he had just told his apprentice to go to his apartment (lair, if one was to be honest) and disappeared to lands unknown. 

From the Archive's angry muttering, possibly in close proximity to Kincaid. It figured, Molly thought, that the idiot would survive whatever crap villains tossed at him, but would wind up broken by the Hellhound. Because that's what Kincaid would do, for abandoning his change. Their charge? Whatever the girl could be called, right now.

The thing was, Molly was pretty sure that Ivy shouldn't be abandoned. She'd taken quite a lot, not very long ago, and while the Nickleheads were unlikely to strike again, she shouldn't be unprotected. 

And Molly Carpenter could hide somebody pretty well (not nearly as well as the Archive herself, but well), but she was piss-poor at combat. 

She did, however, know somebody who wasn't. 

Karrin showed up, as Molly had known she would. 

When the knock came, the Archive muttered, "oh, _wonderful_ , let somebody else see me me in my _playpen_ ," or something to that effect, but the girl cheered up at the sight of Murphy. 

Oh, right. She'd been taken to the cop's house after the whole mess. (Molly had been a tiny little bit distracted, at the time.) And there was that probable maybe thing between the cop and Kincaid. Had Karrin visited whatever place Kincaid had them holed up at?

... and just how unsafe was it to wonder too much about that, in the present company?

"So," Molly cleared her throat after a brief period if silence where all three of them were clearly preoccupied by their thoughts. "Scrabble, anyone?"

For a moment, Karrin stared at her, then snorted a laugh that sounded almost close to a kitten's sneeze. She had a proper snort, of course, one that made Harry smirk whenever she used it, but that one was for different situations.

Ivy, on the other hand, just stared up at her, the light from the fireplace flickering on her face. "That would be cheating. On an absolute scale."

"Wait, why-- _oh_. F-- bugger."

A blonde eyebrow arched up at her, and Molly considered, absurdly, how they were three _blondes_ in the same room and probably the greatest collection of smarts to see the light of day (or stars) in a long time. Damn stereotypes. 

"Your abstinence from employing a profanity is a consideration that I appreciate but don't find necessary. Thank you, all the same."

"Ivy," Murph's voice cut through that with ease, "do you have other games suggestions? Ones that we can actually use?"

"I have in memory file over four thousand, nine hundred and sixty-five such suggestions. The number of those that can actually be played in Warden Dresden't apartment is significantly curtailed, but still rather large. Scrabble, however, isn't among the shorter list..."

"Ivy? Any one of those that you actually want to play?"

"For three?"

"Three or four. Whichever you want."

"Who would be the fourth?"

Molly turned, no, started to turn her had towards the trapdoor, then caught Murphy's small headshake. "Uh... just in case Harry comes back."

"Then that would be five." Because Kincaid. 

A corner of Murph's mouth tugged up, though she intervened flawlessly. "Let's start with three, Ivy."

"Of course." Her eyes got a bit of a far-away look, and then she closed them and started reciting options, voice even, as though reading them from a list. 

After she was done, Molly blinked for a moment, then exchanged a look with Karrin. "I think some of those can only very technically happen in this apartment." She got rewarded with a less girly snort. "Which of those would you want to start with, then?"

"I... don't think it matters. To me. Don't think I care."

"...dammit, Harry, of course you wouldn't have a TV with a VHR. Or DVD. Whatever."

"It's Dresden. Of course he doesn't. Also, you were not seriously just considering subjecting a child to Disney who's had the dubious pleasure of reading through the scripts of those movies _as_ those were getting written?"

"No, I just... was thinking of background. That's all."

The little girl looked up from one blonde to the other, then squinted. "Does either of you sing?"

Both of them frowned at Ivy, who just looked back with those blue eyes of hers. 

Eventually, Murphy sighed. "I guess. Irish sing a lot of the time. "I'll guess only those with _some_ ear survived the first couple of winters. Why?"

Ivy hopped down from her perch on the old couch and beelined for a corner of the living area... only to retrieve Harry's guitar. 

"You can play this?"

"And most musical instruments, yes."

"Kid, nobody likes a bragger."

For a moment, the blue eyes got old, very old. "Not all men or women are as Dresden. It is usually easier to be an impartial arbiter when _not_ liked."

Both 'older' women paused to consider that. Karrin nodded first.

"It shouldn't have to be like that," muttered Molly, and Ivy smiled.

"But it is. And so I can teach you olden songs and you can sing or listen and remember, too."

"Olden?" Molly scrunched up her nose. "Any chance any interesting or fun ones can sneak in among those?"

Ivy contemplated her for a moment, a long one, then thrummed a chored through the strings. "Why, yes, Miss Carpenter," she answered simply, seriously. "Each and every single one of them."

Four minutes later, Molly was giggling. Half an hour after that, she was laughing so hard that tears were sliding down her face.

And hour later, she was crying, and even Karrin's voice was choked up as she sang the gorgeous verses. 

Ivy's eyes remained dry. But her face told all the stories.


End file.
